


Bitter Sweets

by Ceeya (ceeya)



Series: Mirage Mikoto [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Angst, Gen, Uchiha Itachi (mentioned) - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:46:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26705449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceeya/pseuds/Ceeya
Summary: Time marches on and we move along with it, but the memories ingrained within us are often bittersweet.
Series: Mirage Mikoto [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949500
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	Bitter Sweets

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Baking, Humidity, First hint of sunlight at dawn (implied?)

The first rays of sunlight dawned through her window, its glare pressing against her eyelids. She curled up away from the light, her arm lazily reaching out to her husband. She squinted slightly when the cool bedsheet hit her palms instead of the warm form that used to sleep beside her, as the reminder of her current reality slowly bled into her mind.

Her hand curled at the sheets for a moment, before she returned to laying on her back, one arm held over her eyes, pressing firmly to stop the tears from forming. Memories of the past flashed like photographs in her head, a begrudging rocky engagement slowly building into a gentle companionship that only grew when their little treasures came along. They weren’t even a love match, so why did these moments keep haunting her after so long?

She didn’t know how long she spent walking down memory lane until she heard a clatter come from the living room. 

Right, she took a deep breath and pushed herself up and off the bed, grabbing the ribbon from the bedside table and messily tying up her long, black hair. There was no time to spend dwelling on bygone days, she had a son to take care of.

When she got out of the bedroom, she saw her son finishing off his toast and gulping down his tomato juice.

“Good morning, Sasuke. You’re early today.”

“ _Kaa-san_! You’re up!” Sasuke’s head snapped over to her, his eyes wide as he jumped off the chair in surprise.

“Oh? What did you do?” She took in his actions with amusement. Sasuke was always so obvious whenever he did something he knew she disapproved of. However, her mirth turned to concern when he kept shifting his eyes to the closed kitchen door. She tried moving towards the kitchen, but Sasuke sidled up to block her from entering.

“No! I’m making something for you today!” He insisted as she allowed him to push her to the table and forced her to take a seat. There was nothing burning that she could smell so he may have decided to just make something simple.

She patiently waited as he went to pick up her food, a fond smile playing on lips at the sound of him opening and closing drawers. It seems he still wasn’t used to the new placement of the cutlery.

Sasuke came out of the kitchen balancing a covered tray. She attempted to pick it up from him but he moved out of her reach and lifted it to the table, struggling a bit before managing to put it down with much aplomb, the utensils almost bouncing off the tray in his excitement.

“Happy Birthday, _Kaa-san_!” A proud grin appeared on his face at his achievement. The blinding smile that reminded her so much of _before_ , that were so few and far in between these days, was a more precious gift than the plate of food that was placed before her.

At Sasuke’s expectant gaze, she lifted off the cover on the tray. As the humidity of the steam lightly hissed out from under the cloche, the smell of yeast and cinnamon wafted in the room. Before the food was even revealed, Mikoto could feel the contentment of the day slowly draining from her body as she started to tense.

_Cinnamon rolls._ How long has it been…since she’d last made these? She could feel the corner of her eyes start stinging at the thought.

“ _Kaa-san?_ ” Her son’s questioning tone brought her back from her thoughts. She crinkled her eyes and placed the smile back on her face, trying to alleviate the worry building on his face.

“Thank you so much for making breakfast for me, Sasuke! I’m sure they’ll taste great.” To complete the statement, she cut off a piece of one bun with a fork and ate it. The texture was a bit soggy, since it seemed that Sasuke steamed the store-bought bun to reheat it rather than bake it in the oven, but the sugary treat still had its distinctive taste. The effort was worth it when doubts disappeared from the boy’s face and was replaced with an aura accomplishment.

“Now, are you going to just watch me eat this and be late for school?” She teased, knowing that her son always wanted to be the first to arrive at the academy, a habit he inherited from his father.

She gave a slight wave as he rushed out of the house, his single mindedness ensuring that her reaction to the food would be out of his mind until she did something to bring back the memory.

Now that she was alone in the room, she tried to push the tray away, unable to bear the sight of it. But the moment her hand touched the edge, she clung to it desperately, not willing to let go.

“Happy Birthday, _Okaa-sama._ ” A phantom vision of a young Itachi stood serenely in front of her. On his hands was a plate of cinnamon rolls, carefully baked the way she taught him to. 

Baking had always been their special time. The one thing that could bring back the childlike expressions on her firstborn’s face. Before everything had gone wrong and he’d used the sword they had gifted him against them.

Another look at the pastry had her struggling to breathe as tears started streaming down her face; the fork on her hand clattering against the wooden floor when she finally gave in to her grief while visions of scenes long past filled her mind’s eye, some crystal clear and others faded with time.

She didn’t know if her sharingan was a blessing or a curse, giving her a photographic recollection of her once complete family, now tormenting her with the images of what she could no longer have.


End file.
